


Give Up

by ShimmerShadows



Category: The Prisoner (1967)
Genre: Chess Metaphors, Fucking Machines, Lava Lamps, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Other, chanting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 09:22:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17342723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShimmerShadows/pseuds/ShimmerShadows
Summary: There was something no other Number Two was willing to try...





	Give Up

Another day in the Village, another failure of another Number Two. Number Two isn't going to let his predecessor's incompetence get in the way of the ultimate goal: getting information from Number Six.  
  
Number Six stares at the red phone on his desk, as his breakfast is delivered by the butler, the usual English fry-up with coffee. He has grown tired of the routine of breakfast, and while the breakfast is delicious, he sometimes wants something different. Not even something better, just *different*. But he doesn't dwell on it - non-conformity is exactly why Number Six is Number Six, and Number Two is Number Two.  
  
He sips the burnt coffee, and upon realizing that a phone call from Number One would not be coming, looks up at the screen on the wall. The lava lamp imagery fades to Number Six sitting at a table on the deck of the boat by the sea.  
  
Six is reading the Village newspaper, slowly sipping his morning coffee, a tiger in waiting. Two licks his lips, his eyes scanning Six's strong jaw, his neatly combed hair, his eyes that seem to dart at all times.  
  
"The chess set," he orders to the butler, who somehow already has it in his hands. Two takes the case by the handle, and begins his journey down to the village square.

"I'm surprised I didn't have to chase you around the village today, Number Six."  
  
"Ah, you assume I'm always on the move Number Two. Some days I need to rest my feet, I'm sure even your most advanced computer can tell you that."  
  
"Ah yes, Number Six. Every so often I forget that you're a human, and not some busy-body automaton. But I guess that's your charm."  
  
Six harrumphs into his cup of coffee. "Why are you bothering me today, Two? Am I not allowed some peace and quiet while I enjoy my morning brew?" Six finishes his cup with a loud slurp.  
  
"I just wondered if you were interested in a game of chess. It'll be about an hour before the sedatives kick in."  
  
"Damn you, man. Well, pull out the set. I figured their was something off about this Italian roast. I'll choose black."  
  
"Yes, Six, you know we need you to talk."  
  
"And the best you can do is drug me? You know they've tried that before, Two."  
  
"Ah, the drugging is just the warmup, Six. I don't think you'd volunteer for what we're about to do to you. Check."  
  
"I suppose running is outside of the question, then."  
  
"If you increase your heart rate, the sedative will work through your system even faster. You wouldn't be able to make it to the village, at this point. Check."  
  
Six looks at the board. "I don't think I'll be running to the village." Six puts his king down on his side, a forfeit. He jumps from his chair, and runs off the boat, sprinting down the beach to the water. "If I drown first, it will be a hollow victory, Two."  
  
"You underestimate the willingness of the Rover to keep you alive for this one, Six" Two said, as the drone of the Rover roared across the sea.

* * *

"Are you comfortable, Number Six?"  
  
"I am never comfortable, Two."  
  
"Ah, but we've gone to great efforts to make this comfortable for you. Note the velvet that lines the restraints, that the leather padding is pre-warmed to your body temperature."  
  
"And this, this _contraption_ that's on my..."  
  
"Oh, well that is the best part. Just relax, Six, you might even enjoy this." With those words, Two tenderly draws his hand across Six' cheek.  
  
The machine starts to massage the inner thighs of Six. He jerks like a fox caught in a trap, his muscles strain and spasm against the restraints. All he manages is a frightened, muffled shout. The machine's hands continue working up his legs. Sweat forms on Six' brow, and his face grows flush with each gasp of air.  
  
The walls of the room change to a video of the people in the village.  
  
"What is this sick madness, Two?"  
  
The villagers chant in unison.

_All for Six and all for One,_  
_Relax, enjoy, and have some fun!_

The rhythm of the chant matches the machine. Powerful, urgent, emphasis on every beat.  
  
"We've carefully calibrated this machine, Six. It will only bring you to the edge, it is you that must jump off it."  
  
"What if I refuse?"  
  
"You won't."  
  
Time passes as Six resists.  
  
"In the end, Six, remember: you're only human. And no one will think less of you if you want to indulge just a teensy tiny bit."  
  
"I will..." Two chokes, his jaw clenched, "never..."  
  
Six bucks against the device, unable to restrain himself any longer. Each pump nearly knocks the machine out of alignment, but he's unable to wrest it off with his hips. He tries with another strong thrust, and the machine's vacuum turns on. Six reaches climax, unsuccessful at knocking the machine off.  
  
"Glad you had some fun, Six."

* * *

Two stares at the red phone on his desk, as he eats his usual English fry-up. It rings just as he puts his fork down to reach for his coffee.  
  
"Number Two speaking."  
  
"A message from Number One. The computers have detected a change beyond the typical behavioural noise of Number Six. Additionally, the initial information received looks promising."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
Number Two puts down the phone. He leans back in his chair, takes a long draw of coffee from his mug, and watches the lava lamp on the screen.


End file.
